How I Met Jennifer Jareau
by BAHBEEPBO
Summary: William starts telling his kids the story of how he met JJ. They think it's just because he's a bored old man. JJ thinks he's just trying to get through to his teenager and his hyperactive 13 year old. None of them know the secret he's hiding. Rated T to be safe but I think it qualifies for K
1. Chapter 1

**Hey:D So I had this new idea and I just had to write it down (oops) and let me know what you think. It's not exactly a cross over but who knows? For now it's purely criminal minds.**

**William**

"Henry? Derek?" I called tentatively. Henry came walking through the door, slouching. His iPod was stuck in his ear but he politely removed them. Derek came crashing in, as usual. Derek suffered from mild attention deficiency but Henry always managed to calm him down.

"I'm going to tell you the story of how I met your mother," I said, smiling. I motioned for them to sit down on the couch.

"Dad. I don't want to know," Henry said, rolling his eyes.

"Humor me," I said dryly. He smiled slightly, but hid it behind his eyes. Derek crashed on to the couch, taking up the whole seat. Sighing, Henry sat on the floor next to the couch.

I cleared my throat and started talking.

"She knew what she was stepping into. I knew what I was stepping into. We did it anyway. If we never decided to make this mistake, my life would have been completely different.

I would have left the training quarters for the future FBI agents and maybe gotten a bagel. I would have walked down and grabbed a smoothie and pretzel and head to the airport. I would have flown back to New Orleans. I would have gone back to the police station, finished up a case, gone home, slept and life would have gone on. And you would have never been born.

It's scary, really, how one decision can change your life. Let's back up to 2005. Jennifer Jareau was reading her final year at the FBI training center, where your grandfather taught. He was a small county sheriff, but he was constantly invited to give talks about how with limited manpower, you can still solve huge crimes. I followed him every once in a while. It gave me pleasure to watch how these stupid people thought that they would, one day, save the world.

There was no end to this job. I knew it very well. Every time I expected my father to be present, he always had something on. New case. New case. New case. Those two words plagued my childhood. I later went on to help out at the police department. I never really wanted to be anything. I needed a job and money to feed myself and pay for my new house, so I gave in and went into the police force.

Slowly, I started to hate my job. There were cases every day. There was no end. Every day you think the day is finally over, there will be a new psychopath on it's way. I hated every single detail of it. But I stayed, because I was obliged to. After a while, I became resigned to the fact that you can never save the world.

Your mother, however, had a completely different opinion. She was a fresh-faced FBI trainee. She was all excited to start work. She was raring to go. She wanted to become a agent at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. It was a department where they caught people based on breaking down their mind. What a crap load of bullshit that was.

She sat in the very first row. I always sneered at those who sat in the first row. They were always the know-it-alls. They were also usually the first ones who broke down when a case was too much to handle. They cared too much. But then again, you have people like me who don't care at all. They called me jaded.

Whatever.

Anyway, she listened attentively and scribbled down notes whenever my father opened his mouth. She asked 4 out of the 6 questions. She exhibited all the signs of a know it all, but she seemed to be pretty popular. I bet she was one of those mean girls in high school who decided to stop being a bimbo.

As you can see, she did not give me a very good impression and I honestly disliked her. So yes, I was a bored old police officer. That's what made the events that happen later all the more interesting.

"Last question?" your grandfather had asked. Her hand shot up. She reminded me of Hermione in Harry Potter. You know Harry Potter. The boy wizard—you don't know Harry Potter? I'll buy you the set tomorrow. It's the best series ever.

"Yes. Do you catch all of them? All the bad guys?" she asked, her face full of hope. Her innocence was charming. My dad laughed, but I had laughed louder. I did not laugh because it was funny. I had mocked her.

"Since William here is very well versed, he can answer your question, Miss Jareau," my dad said, pushing the blame on to me. I was caught off guard, but I didn't want to show it. I had to be the alpha male after all. I coughed to clear my throat.

"You will never be able to save everyone. There is always someone out there, someone new. You can never save the world. Your innocence is cute, but out in the field, if a little part of you dies every time you let one of them go, you will be dead by the first year of your job, Miss Jareau," I said, slightly snobbishly. If she had just taken my answer, that would have been it.

I would have left the training quarters for the future FBI agents and maybe gotten a bagel. I would have walked down and grabbed a smoothie and pretzel and head to the airport. I would have flown back to New Orleans. I would have gone back to the police station, finished up a case, gone home, slept and life would have gone on. And you would have never been born," I finished.

"How interesting," Henry yawned.

"BUT WE WERE BORN!" Derek screamed.

"Derek, indoors volume dude," Henry said. Derek quickly calmed down and repeated his statement in barely a whisper.

I laughed. "Tell me more," Derek whispered. Henry ruffled his brother's hair.

"You have an appointment at the doctor remember?" Henry reminded, picking Derek up and throwing him over his shoulder. Derek squealed and wriggled about but Henry kept a tight hold on him.

"We can listen to Daddy's story tomorrow, okay?" Henry said, kissing Derek's neck.

**YUP LET ME KNOW YOUR IDEAS ON WHETHER I SHOULD CONTINUE. REVIEW PLEASE xoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry! It's so long (than i usually update) ok^^**

JJ stepped into the study as I removed the tape from the recorder and marked out the date.

"What's up with this?" she asked, putting her hands around my waist.

I quickly covered up the brown case file on my desk and hoping she did not notice the big mark on it. She was walking towards the CD player, so her back was facing me.

"Nothing. Just thought it would be sweet if you know, they knew how we met," I said.

"You are recording it because? It's not like you're going to listen to yourself over and over again right?" she laughed. I forced out a nervous laughter.

"You know there is a part of your brain called the hippocampus. It's located just under your central—you know what? Never mind. The thing is, this part of your brain stores all your memory and emotions and if this part is damaged, you kind of lose your memory," I said slowly.

"Are you diagnosed with dementia or something? Is that why you're afraid?" she asked worriedly.

"No! No! No!" I said quickly. "It's just that I'm scared I'll damage this lobe because of job injuries in general," I lied.

There was a specific job that was sitting on my oak desk that I had been assigned. I wanted to tell JJ about it. After all, it was like a rock on my chest. Yet, it was not allowed. I had received strict orders that the FBI was not to know about this because they didn't want them to come over because of some politics.

JJ was the one who chose these cases. If I just let it slip that I was going to be put in high levels of danger while going undercover chasing a psychopath, she would not hesitate to call her family at work. I love her family and all, but not this time.

"Oh. That's true," she said, resting her head on my shoulder as we danced slowly to the soft music in the background.

Derek came bounding back the next morning, dragging Henry with him.

"STORY!" he screamed, crashing on to the couch.

Henry sighed and took a seat on the floor.

"Oh Henry if you don't want to listen, you can just go," I said honestly, smiling at him. He seemed to process that for a few seconds.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked. I shook my head vigorously.

"Well, I'll stay then," he decided.

"Alright," I said, trying to recall where I had stopped. "Yes, I had given your mother a less than satisfactory answer."

"Thankfully, she did not just accept my answer.

"But if you save one person's life, won't you change a hundred potential lives?" she had asked. I had no answer to that question. I had just closed a case about a girl who we saved from death just in the nick of time.

If she had not been saved, the killer would have gone on and murdered god knows how many girls and their families would be affected. She was right, but I was proud.

"Go on thinking that, if it makes you feel better," I said dryly. Grandpa ended the talk and she came up to me.

"You know what's wrong with people like you in the police force? You have no care about saving people's life. You're doing it as a job, and one day, you're going to die with regret. Or get eaten by your cats because no one would want to be with you," she said angrily.

I still like to remind her that she said that. Thank god I did not become a sad cat man.

"So you think you can save it all? Really?" I challenged.

"At least I try," she said. Grandpa noticed something wrong and packed up his stuff quickly, giving us space to talk.

"Try? Do you know how many times I have tried and failed? If you care so much, it'll ruin you, Miss Jareau," I said. She raised her hand. "Call me Jennifer," she said.

Kids, you know how they say that opposites attract? It's true.

Your mother attracted me like how a magnet at a junkyard attracts cars and smashes them into little square compartments. Not a very good comparison because that would mean death and for me it would mean fall in love and get married.

Oh well. I guess it's a perfect metaphor. Anyway, back to the story.

I shouldn't have stood so near because her scent was starting to get to me.

"Jennifer, do you believe in living while we're young?" I asked.

"If you mean doing stupid shit then no," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"Making good mistakes?" I asked, speaking nearer and nearer to her.

"Making good mistakes?" she repeated blindly. I doubt she was processing what she was saying because she was too close to me.

"I found you here, so let's live while we're young. I know I seem like an old cop who's tired of his job but maybe you're what I need, Jennifer," I said.

"Found me? This was a mere coincidence, Detective LaMontagne," she said, pronouncing my name exactly the way it was meant to be. "Besides, this is wrong. I shouldn't be about to kiss my professor's son," she said wisely.

"When have you let a few errors hold you back?" I asked.

"You've known me for only a few minutes," she pointed out.

"First impressions," I said, shrugging it off and giving her a smug grin.

"WILLIAM, THE FLIGHT IS LEAVING SOON!" Grandpa called out from the door.

"Damn it!" I cursed angrily. "Maybe we'll meet again?" I added as an after thought.

She quickly got her composure back and grabbed her bag, hurrying up the steps. The moment was lost forever, but the memory was not.

"MAKE A MISTAKE FOR ONCE, MISS KNOW-IT-ALL. MAKE THIS MISTAKE!" I yelled. She merely flicked her hair slightly at me and hurried out of the class.

Ah. She hasn't changed much has she?

And so I caught my flight, went home and just slept on it. She never left her number, but a bit of snooping around solved that. It was illegal, but whatever. I just needed to cover my tracks properly.

Anyway, after a bit of sweet talk, I managed to convince her to go to her dance with me. I knew about the graduating dance because I attended them every year. The seniors were allowed to get drunk off their ass for one night before the next day where they not only had to cure a bad hangover, but check which department they got sent to.

For once, I was not just interested in seeing future FBI agents throw up all over the place and take photos of it.

She had later told me when we met that she had applied for a job as the media liaison at the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. I wished her good luck, politely. I had no regard for that unit. They talked nonsense. It was her choice though.

The next time I got a call from her was the next morning. She was excited to tell someone that she had gotten through and was going to Virginia. Funny, I was the first person who popped into her mind. Of course, I would later realize that she had no one else to call. She had never told me that, of course.

So I was stuck in that gray area where I had no idea what we were. I would assume that we were friends, but she had seemed so… interesting. She sent me text every now and then about her cases and slowly we built up a relationship. Yes, we built up a relationship through texts and phone calls.

That night, I remember clearly, was a frosty night. Snow had just begun to fall on the streets and the bell had rung. Grandpa got the door.

"Of course, of course. Come in," Grandpa had offered. Your mother stood in the middle of my living room, dressed in a bright green coat and an orange scarf. I was, on the other hand, walking around in my briefs, trying to find my long pants and shirt. I had not done the laundry so I had to go down to the basement to get it.

"Let me get dressed. My room is up there," I said quickly, reading her expression. She nodded thankfully and headed up the steps. I pulled on whatever I could find and scampered up the steps.

She had taken off her coat and was sitting on the edge of my bed, her head in her hands. She was shaking, but I doubt it was from the cold. I knew that image. I knew what had happened. I was like that too, so many years ago, when I just started out.

"Rough day at work?" I asked, reaching for the alcohol stash in my room. I poured her a glass of wine. It just seemed so much classier. She took it gratefully but said nothing. I waited patiently.

"I don't even know why I'm here. Honestly, of all people, you're probably the worst person to talk to. You were the one who told me it'll ruin me, after all," she said.

I took a seat next to her, rather tentatively.

"You changed that," I said slowly. She raised her head slightly.

"Look, you can't save the world at once, JJ. You can only save them one by one. Instead of thinking about all those that you didn't save, think about all those you did. All those lives you changed," I said quietly. She was weary from her job already. I could see it in her eyes.

She rested her head on my shoulder and we just sat there. We sat there until she fell asleep on my arm and I tucked her in, grabbing the extra pillows and heading down stairs.

I was freezing the next morning, and the snot was running straight down my nose. Grandpa had left early for his morning walks.

"Good night's sleep?" I asked, grabbing myself a cup of coffee and some tissue.

"God, I feel so bad. I mean you should have just came in and now your nose is running," she said apologetically. I couldn't hide the smile that formed on my lips. I had never seen her like this. Her eyes were barely open and her hair was in a mess.

"If I slept on the same bed with you, that would just make our relationship even more awkward," I pointed out.

"Wait…I thought we were in a relationship?" she asked quietly. I froze, completely caught off guard and at a loss for words.

"All those texts and late night calls…I'm sorry. I just assumed. I clearly overstayed. I'll go now," she said, somewhat angrily.

"What? JJ, don't be like this. There was no clear line! Come on, please stay," I begged her. She was stubborn.

"Uh. I feel so stupid," she said quickly grabbing her stuff and storming out.

"Jennifer! Come back!" I shouted from the front porch. I sighed as she walked out of my lawn and turned the corner.

And that was the first time I ever made your mother mad. And that might have been it. But as fate would have it, I went back to my room and saw the orange scarf that hung quietly on my clothes rack.

"So you apologized?" Henry asked.

"Apologize? No. I literally begged her to come back to me," I said. He laughed quietly.

"Alright buddy. Doctor's appointment," he said, hustling up Derek again.

"BYE DAD!" he yelled from the doorway.

I took a seat and read the case file over again. It was about this stupid guy in New Orleans who lost his memory in an accident and now he wants everyone to feel the same so he was basically damaging their hippocampus on purpose and then dumping them off at hospitals.

Why they had chose me? I was that psychopath's classmate. His name was Robert Jack. We studied from the 1st Grade all the way to high school and police academy. We were pals. He got injured in a case and lost his memory. He couldn't remember any one of us and so he quit. We never heard from him again.

Not till now.

**Review please xoxo**


End file.
